Play Dirty: Brooklyn Dawn Book 1 Page 16

  He pulled off his own shades and set them on my face. I batted away his hands, but he would not be swayed. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he ever let loose with his true strength. Beyond him pulling my hair, that is.

  Despite the growing heat, I shivered.

  “You’re shivering? It’s gotta be seventy-plus out here.”

  “It wasn’t that kind of shiver, wiseass.”

  His eyebrow arched. “Really? From sunglasses?”

  I swatted at him and he shook his head at me as he took out his bottle for a drink.

  “Thirsty?” he asked after a moment. Although I was sure he wasn’t up on current lingo, his smirk made me wonder.

  “For your liquid.”

  “Oh, I just bet.”

  I ignored him and snatched the bottle out of his hand, draining the last of the water. I was sweating like a bitch and obviously seriously dehydrated. “Thanks.”

  He took back the empty bottle and sighed before tucking it away. Now he had both empties in his pockets.

  Alexander Nash was many things, but he wasn’t a litterer. Too bad he wasn’t a magician who could produce more water.

  Cocking my head, I glanced at the waterfall. Hmm. That could do wonders for cooling me off. It would also restore the equilibrium between us.

  He thought I was the only thirsty one, huh? Well, we’d just see about that.

  I rolled out my yoga mat and quickly shed my socks and sneakers. Followed by my sports bra—including Nash’s small roll of dollar bills—and training shorts.

  “What the hell are you… Lindsey.”

  The strangled quality of his voice delighted me in unspeakable ways.

  Ignoring him, I checked my braids were still intact. All good. I moved to the edge of the water and stuck a toe in.

  I shivered. It wasn’t warm, that was for sure, but I could handle it. I’d handled worse.

  I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t too many slithery things. I’d spent time in oceans and held my own, but I couldn’t say I loved all sea life when it was winding around my calves.

  Ick.

  I sat on the bank and slid my legs into the water, watching carefully that nothing that belonged on the cover of some aquatic magazine paddled past. The water had decent depth too. It wouldn’t cover my whole body, but probably enough that I wouldn’t be indecent if Alex’s detested photographers crept out of the woods.

  Taking a deep breath, I slipped under the surface. And squealed like a little bitch.

  “Oh my God. Seriously? Seriously?”

  Alex stood on the bank with the sun slanted behind him, adding a halo he so didn’t deserve. But hell if my nipples didn’t tingle—and not just from the water.

  “Anyone could come by.”

  That was a true statement. The fact that the water only came up to the bottom of my breasts unless I ducked way down would give them a show if they did.

  I stretched my arms over my head, just for the sheer pleasure of watching his eyes glaze over. “So, get in here and protect me.”

  I’d said it to be obnoxious. Like he would. He didn’t seem to be the spontaneous type in that way. Doing something just for fun? When you might get caught?

  Nope. Forget about it.

  I didn’t expect him to kick off his boots and socks then go for his sweats. I definitely didn’t think he’d hesitate at his boxers before yanking them off too. And he didn’t do a careful slide into the water as I had.

  He fucking jumped in, splashing me and everything else. So, naturally, I squealed again.

  “Quiet, duchess.” He covered my mouth with his absurdly big hand. The other moved between my legs.

  So much for warming me up.

  The ridiculous thing was that I already was. Just looking at him, and insulting him, and those smirks and eyebrow lifts of his were enough to get my motor running.

  “You encourage me to do very bad things,” he said against my ear.

  I panted against the hand he held over my mouth. Then I scraped my teeth over his palm. He swore, but he didn’t let me go. And his other hand turned ruthless between my thighs.

  At first, he’d just toyed with me. Circling my clit, flicking it. After I sort of bit him? He started rubbing in mad circles that should have made me knee him in the balls. Too much friction, too fast.

  But somehow it wasn’t. Not with him, not here.

  I rocked into his palm, full on gasping now. My wet breasts and diamond-hard nipples dragged over his chest with every movement. He groaned, his teeth sinking into my earlobe as he dipped a finger, then two, inside me.

  Filling me with all the pressure and heat I needed.

  “Gonna come.” Some distant part of me was embarrassed that he could ply me this easily.

  The rest? So fucking grateful.

  Before yesterday, it had been so damn long since I’d gone flying like this. Since he’d made me fly.

  Always Alex.

  I was up and over before he had a chance to respond. His hand dropped away from my mouth at the exact moment I crashed into my orgasm, as if he wanted the sounds I made broadcast to the world. Whatever world was out here in Logan’s slice of the wilderness anyway.

  Hopefully, no one.

  “That’s my duchess.” The rumble of his chest against mine only prolonged the aftershocks. That, and the endless sweeps of his calloused thumb over my clit. If he didn’t stop…

  “God, don’t stop.” That wasn’t me, sounding so dazed and hungry. Still. Always. I’d just come, and I wasn’t normally someone who had multiples.

  Then again, I didn’t usually have focused sapphire eyes pinning me in place while I sought that not-so-elusive peak either.

  Before I could finish that climb again, he yanked his hand away and spun me around in the water. I slipped on the wet rocks and would’ve surely slid onto my ass if he hadn’t caught me around the waist and lifted me just enough to wedge his cock between my thighs. He gave me a minute to prepare, to dip back my head and haul in a breath. Then he was driving upward and entering me in one long, deep thrust.

  I couldn’t even kid myself that I didn’t scream. My shock at how he could be so cold from the water and so hot at the same time—and so goddamn hard when hypothermia was a near thing—demanded to be heard. He let me scream it out, finally chuckling at the end when my scream kind of changed into a moan-slash-whimper-slash-laugh.

  How was this happening again?

  “That one’s my favorite,” he said against my neck, barely audible above the slap of our bodies and the water bubbling and rushing around us. “Can’t decide if you want to laugh or cry or moan, love?” I squeezed down on him and he groaned, long and low and lovely in my ear. “Vengeful wench.”

  “You don’t know the half.” I reached down between my legs to where he was buried inside me from behind. What I could see stole my breath. It was obscene and erotic and beautiful, all at once.

  Almost like us.

  I angled forward, trusting he had a good hold on me, and skimmed my fingertips over as much of his length as I could touch. He swore an Irish-flavored blue streak that made me laugh despite his renewed desire to fuck me unconscious.

  He shifted his grip and managed to grasp one of my breasts. My nipple might as well have been directly linked to my clit with every brutal twist of his fingers. His teeth scraped the side of my throat and he just kept on stroking in and out, the rhythm as relentless as the water moving around us. Flowing down from the top of the waterfall then sliding down, down, down.

  Just like me.

  I was floating away, lost to the effortless beat of him hammering into me. Each thrust was just this side of pain, and I wanted it. Loved it.

  “Harder,” I whispered. “More.”

  Nothing could be enough.

  “Greedy duchess. But I aim to please.” He slid his arm up between my breasts and gripped my neck hard enough to bruise. I didn’t mind it. Even the slight loss of breath, the rawness of my throat when I tried to swallow a
nd drag in oxygen, the feeling that maybe, just maybe he’d never let me go…

  All of it turned me on more.

  As soon as he drew out of me, I turned around and jumped up to wind my legs around his hips. He stared up at me, clearly surprised I’d taken charge. “I’m not one of your predictable women.”

  I didn’t know where that had come from. But if he could make up phantom relationships between Logan and I, I could imagine him with the nameless, faceless chicks he’d probably bedded while working in the studio. Slipped into as easily as if they’d been lovers for a lifetime before he vanished into the ether.

  Just like he’d done with me three years ago.

  He fisted a handful of my damp hair and tugged my head until our eyes were even. “I don’t have any other women.” And he entered me in one smooth, silky stroke.

  My heart pounded in my ears as I gripped his stupidly broad shoulders to try to balance myself. I tried to speak. Gave up.

  His cock was a weapon, and right now, I was his chosen battlefield.

  Linking my arms around his neck, I fused our mouths together. If he wanted a ride of a lifetime, he’d just found his match.

  The fist in my hair grew wild, pulling my head back. He chased my lips, kissing me desperately, before he raced his mouth down my throat. The bite of his teeth and the pain along my scalp zipped right between my legs, lighting up every part of me in between. My nipples tingled and he didn’t have enough hands.

  So, I used one of my own, nearly frantic as I twisted and tugged. And watched his jaw go slack as he slammed home one last time.

  The quick jerk of him inside me made me sob with the need for my own release. So, so close, but the second climb was always steeper.

  As if he knew, as if he understood, his fingers found me again while he came down from his own orgasm. His eyes narrowed and a muscle ticked in his temple, but he watched every nuance of my face even when I would’ve shied away. I wasn’t a shrinking violet, but he’d blown me wide open again, and now he wanted to see my destruction at his hands.

  His cock slipped in and out of me lazily, an easy counterpoint to the roughness of his touch. I couldn’t look away from the stark planes of his face, the little beads of sweat along his hairline, the tiny freckles that dotted his upper lip. My whole body was straining, aching, and I was already trying to remember details for that moment when he became my past.

  Again.

  “Out of your head, duchess.” His thumb circled hard and fast. “Don’t make me spank this orgasm out of you.”

  My eyes popped wide.

  His raw chuckle was like a match set to my libido. I dug my nails into his shoulders and bounced against him, not caring what it looked like. The friction of our bodies moving together, the heat in his gaze—I was done.

  This time, I didn’t make a noise. Pleasure ruled me, rolling through me in thick waves. His cock never stopped, but I didn’t try to keep up. I couldn’t. All I could do was drown in his eyes.

  Afterward, I just trembled. I didn’t know what to do. Who to be.

  Flirty Lindsey? Remote Lindsey? The real Lindsey who was falling—

  “You’re stunning.” He brushed a kiss over my numb lips, but that wasn’t enough for me. I scored my nails along his neck as I dragged him back for another kiss, deeper now. So deep that all those nerve endings that had just fired were sparking again.

  “Christ. You’ll be the death of me.” His Irish was thicker, his kisses as wild as mine.

  There was no end to what flared to life between us. Just levels.

  Still holding me, he started walking through the water, splashing it between us. I locked my legs around him for dear life, so I didn’t fall for real.

  “I have you.”

  “You do. But for how long?”

  I hadn’t meant for him to hear. Definitely hadn’t intended for him to lay me out on my yoga mat on the grass and pry open my legs to taste all he’d left behind.

  Filthy Irishman.

  I lost count of how many climaxes he wrought from my body. Forget me not having multiple orgasms easily. He’d flipped some switch inside me. Each release was agony, but he didn’t care. It was as if he was driven to imprint himself on my psyche.

  Like he hadn’t already.

  When he drew back and dragged his wrist over his mouth, I pushed him onto his back. If he thought he’d take all of me, I’d return the favor in spades.

  “Duchess.” The word was a groan when he realized my destination. It wasn’t hard to guess, since he was again curved against his belly and gleaming with a mixture of water and more.

  I gripped him in both hands—necessary right now—and touched the tip of him to my lips, watching his expression as I sank down. I didn’t have his finesse, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He clutched my thigh in brutal fingers and arched his back, his smart mouth falling silent. Even the smirks he wore like armor fell away.

  His steel in my hand and the softness of my mouth were all that was left. While the sounds of birdsong and bubbling water surrounded us, and the sun radiated down on skin probably already close to burning.

  At least mine. Alex seemed immune to the rays, as he was to so much else.

  Unlike me. I would’ve sworn every molecule of my body was open to him and the elements around me. I’d never felt this alive. This aware.

  Every sharp breath he took rocketed through me. He licked his lips and I mirrored the move, pulling a groan that sounded like pain from his chest. Then I dove down again, pushing my now tumbled hair out of my face when it blocked my view. He leaned up and gripped the messy ponytail, moving it aside so he could watch each pull of my mouth.

  When I cupped his sac, he braced himself on the mat and dropped back his head.

  I had to taste him there too.

  He thought he was the only one who knew how to shock? Not even close.

  His salty, oh so male flavor skated over my taste buds. Not unpleasant at all. I was so crazed for him that I nearly growled as I took his length in my mouth again. In my throat. Sucking him and twisting my hand along his shaft took almost all of my attention.

  The rest was for his eyes. I was waiting for that minute flicker that would tell me he was about to finally give up what I wanted.

  No holding back.

  “Lindsey.” The warning made me move faster. He thought I’d retreat? Hell no. I craved the taste of him.

  Every damn drop.

  Color dotted his cheekbones and his gaze locked on me like a laser. He said my name again and again, not the nickname he’d christened me with. Along with it, he muttered Irish words I didn’t understand. They could’ve meant love or bitch, and I would’ve been none the wiser.

  His hands were so fucking gentle in my hair. Never forcing me to take more than I was able to.

  Here, finally, he could be tender.

  I didn’t stop until his thighs turned to granite beneath my straining arms. He thickened in my grip, and his touch roughened for an instant before he let go. His body strung tight and then he was on my tongue, coming so fast that I wasn’t sure I’d catch it all. But I didn’t stop swallowing and although it cost me, I couldn’t look away from the beautiful tragedy of his face.

  His eyes were so raw, so broken. I’d torn something from him that sounded like my name and made me ache for him even as he shook under my hold.

  Once I’d caught my breath, I went back for the stray drops I’d missed. I wound my tongue around his softened shaft, sliding up and down without hesitation.

  “You’re far more wicked than I gave you credit for.”

  God, his accent. When we were intimate, it was nearly more than I could take.

  I crawled up his body, leaving kisses in my wake. Taking my time on the uneven skin he thought made him less and instead, made him so much more.

  Carefully, so carefully, he drew my mouth to his. We’d shared so much else. This was just one more thing.

  We kissed forever. Not since I’d been a horny teenager h
ad a man spent so much time on my mouth. Especially one who’d just been inside it.

  Inside me.

  When we ran out of breath, I sank onto his chest. Fully naked, sprawled in the morning sun as if we were kittens. Damn anyone who might see.

  I didn’t have the capacity to worry about mirrored lenses in trees right now. Some part of me would relish having proof this incredible day had happened. Even if I regretted my foolishness later.

  At least I was living for myself. Not singing songs on a stage while I channeled emotions I ran from in real life.

  I didn’t have time. Didn’t want to get involved.

  Wasn’t looking for any of that.

  I’d found it anyway. Or it had found me. I was fucking terrified who I’d be when it was all over.

  Because it would be soon. It had to be.

  Didn’t it?

  His hand drifted over my hair. Untangling the strands. Soothing me in a way I’d wondered if he was capable of.

  Maybe neither of us knew.

  “I want to see you in New York.” I didn’t lift my head. Didn’t dare.

  If I saw a blank expression when I’d basically just laid myself open for him yet again, I wouldn’t cry. I’d probably twist off his dick with my bare hands.

  What did I care if it was intact, if he intended to disappear again?

  “I don’t have another three years in me.” I hated the plea in my words. I hated more that he could make me yearn for something he might not even have inside him.

  For all I knew, I was alone on the stage in a way I’d never been. This time, my band didn’t have my back. The spotlight shone on me, and I held nothing in my hands but my heart.

  As I offered it to a man who didn’t care enough to be cruel.

  I was so in my head that I nearly missed his heart racing under my cheek. Proof that he wasn’t as blasé as he seemed.

  “Okay.”

  I exhaled, but I still didn’t look at him. “Okay?”

  He tucked his thumb under my chin and lifted it enough for our eyes to meet. There wasn’t a smirk in sight. “We’re both busy. Neither of us has traditional schedules. But okay.”

  Even as I rejoiced, I narrowed my eyes. “Am I forcing you into this?”